


Even a scary story has space for a love story

by Sarai



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Bad Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Jesper Fahey-centric, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Reading, Wylan Van Eck-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29603370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarai/pseuds/Sarai
Summary: As Jesper and Wylan are settling into their life together, Wylan asks about the book Jesper's reading.Mostly, things are going well for the couple.But is it really a good idea to read a scary story before bed?
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48
Collections: Week #4: Boo!





	Even a scary story has space for a love story

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe I absolutely love horror?! And yet when it came time to write a horror fic, for all the ideas in my head, this was the one I settled on.
> 
> Sometimes I feel like I have too many fics about Jesper and Wylan cuddling and reading together. That did not stop me from writing another one.

Hail clattered against cobblestones and plunked into the canal, flattened any flower or blade of grass unlucky enough to get in their way, thumped off of Wylan Van Eck and slid under his collar. He hurried along, rubbing his hands as he went. The cold weather had come unexpectedly over Ketterdam, one last searing bite from winter before spring could settle.

He ran up the front steps. It was a bad idea: he slipped and smacked his knee hard before he could catch himself. His trousers soaked through in an instant. 

Wylan scrambled indoors, dripping and cold and miserable about it. He shucked off the too-big coat and gloves, removed his hat, and hung the lot over the mat where the drip could catch. He pulled out of his shoes next for all the good that did. They were his same paper-lined shoes—bad luck, Wylan had his appointment with the cordwainer the day of a hailstorm! But he was home now.

Wylan padded barefoot into the sitting room. Jesper was on the settee, and Wylan simultaneously thought about kissing him—but as wonderful as it felt to casually kiss someone hello, he was a bit too soaking wet—and that Jesper was hiding something.

“Hey, Jes.”

He issued this greeting from a spot by the fireplace. Wylan held his hands toward the flames, then shifted to favor his toes. Only then did he smile at his boyfriend. 

Sometimes it felt like the wrong term. If he walked into a room and would have casually kissed them, that felt like a boyfriend. But the word felt so small. 'Boyfriend' did not quite encompass the amount of times they had risked their lives together.

“How’s your day?”

“Better than yours!” Jesper told his sodden boyfriend. His sodden boyfriend-and-a-half. It wasn't perfect, but at least it meant they were more.

Wylan laughed. “Jes?”

“Still here.”

“You know I want you to think of this as your home.”

“I know,” Jesper said, smiling. He crouched next to Wylan and kissed him. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“Wait.” Wylan reached for his hand. “I don’t want you feeling like you need to hide things from me.”

With a forced laugh, Jesper asked, “What would I hide from you?”

Wylan replied with a look.

Jesper sighed. “Okay, but… okay.” He went back to the settee and retrieved something stuffed under the cushion. Wylan told himself he didn’t care what it was, he only cared about the lie… until he saw the book in Jesper’s hand. 

“Oh, Jesper…” Wylan stood and wrapped his arms around Jesper. He leaned up to kiss his neck.

Jesper held Wylan for a few moments, then he said, “I really like you, Wy, but you’re sopping. I’m going to get you that towel.”

Wylan stayed by the fire. He stared at the book Jesper had hidden under the cushion. He didn’t need Jesper to protected him from even seeing books; he knew they existed. But although it was not what Wylan needed, it gave him a sort of melted toffee feeling inside that Jesper tried—which was a strange contrast to the needling pain he felt as his toes warmed too quickly. 

He tried to make sense of the title, but the letters writhed and shifted before his eyes. 

“Here you are!”

Jesper popped a towel onto Wylan’s head and ruffled his hair. 

Laughing, Wylan took the towel, trying to soak up the worst of the water he had got himself drenched in. He started with his hair and neck.

“New coat is at the top of the list now,” he said. The back of his shirt was soaked because the too-big coat had left a gap—still, he was grateful to have it. He hadn’t been so lucky in the Barrel. “You know… you don’t have to hide anything from me. You can do things I can’t, that’s okay. Read wherever you want. And use the top shelf.”

Jesper laughed. “You’ll never know what’s on the top shelf. Maybe I’m hiding all my dirty pictures up there. Or your birthday presents.”

“Does that mean you’re giving me dirty pictures for my birthday?” Wylan tried and failed to fight off a blush. It only heated up when Jesper stroked a fingertip along the back of his neck. 

Jesper leaned in and kissed Wylan’s cheek. This was all making it very difficult for him to focus on drying his feet!

“You blush any hotter, you’ll evaporate all that rainwater.”

“I… I might,” Wylan admitted. “I just might. Hey, you know how to build, right? Like with a hammer?” That seemed like one of the many skills most people had, but he had never needed. 

Chuckling at the awkward phrasing, Jesper said, “I know how to build with a hammer, yes. Why?”

“Could you teach me when the weather’s better?”

“Sure. Anything in particular?”

“The hail’s murder on those early flowers. Maybe we could—maybe I could, you don’t have to—give them a little help. Maybe some sort of netted cover so the rain gets through but the hail can’t.”

Wylan expected Jesper to laugh at him. Silly, soft merchling, fretting over a flowerbed…

Jesper tucked a curl behind Wylan’s ear.

“You’re sweet. Of course I’ll help you build a roof for the flowers.”

“Thanks, Jes. Tell me about your book,” Wylan suggested. He meant it: he wanted to know about Jesper’s interests. 

Jesper hesitated. “Oh… I… the thing is, Wy, I don’t know if you’d like it.”

Wylan shrugged. “I don’t have to like it. You seem to like it, so I want to hear about it.” When Jesper still hesitated, Wylan assured him, “It’s okay. Please—I don’t want to make you feel bad with the same thing he used to make me feel bad.”

After a moment’s quiet, Wylan felt eyes on him. He turned away from the merrily crackling fire to find Jesper staring. Something lurched in his chest—did he say something wrong? Wylan tried not to talk about his father too often. It was hard for Jesper to hear, and Wylan was, honestly, happy for that. He was happy for Jesper that he was repulsed by the idea of a father saying or doing what Jan Van Eck routinely said and did—he was happy for that to be so foreign to Jesper.

Then Jesper smiled and shifted closer to Wylan, wrapping an arm around him. Wylan didn’t understand, but he wasn’t going to object.

“You may actually be too sweet. If we leave you by this fire too long, I worry you’ll turn into syrup. You’re not making me feel bad, gorgeous. It’s a scary story. I don’t want to scare you.”

“Oh, I like scary stories! Besides, I could never be scared with you. Maybe you could read me a chapter, if you wanted to.”

“Of course I want to—now?”

“Or… later.”

* * *

Jesper liked attention, but not just to be noticed. That was fine, would do for a time. What he really wanted wasn’t just to be seen but to be adored. 

That night he laid against the pillows, Wylan’s head rested on on his chest. It hadn’t taken long for the merchling’s anxiety to melt enough for him to acknowledge he liked being cuddled. He didn’t acknowledge it aloud, but he didn’t need to. Wylan liked closeness—just as much as Jesper did. Because Wylan's trust was his purest form of adoration. 

“You don’t have to, you know,” Wylan said. 

“I don’t mind.”

They hadn’t said the words yet, but Wylan looked up at Jesper with pure affection. Then he settled against him once more. Jesper wrapped an arm around him.

“You just stay right there.”

“So you can protect me?”

“Of course.”

Jesper grinned and began to read. 

It was a promising one. The main characters were two best friends hired to stay in a merchant’s countryside home over the winter; everything they needed was provide for them, they just needed to mind the house and the merchant’s dogs. But unnerving things started happening almost immediately. At first it was debatable stuff—things going missing could have been innocent mistakes, but one of the young men found his clothes strewn about the yard after a rainstorm, and the other claimed he had seen a monstrously-faced figure the night before… and if things weren’t tense enough, then a snowstorm trapped them both inside.

“Why don’t we leave it there for tonight?” Jesper suggested. He was getting tired—and, okay, a part of him wouldn’t mind leaving Wylan a little shaken as they fell asleep. Even Jesper had chills down his spine, and he had read plenty of horror books! Wylan must have been scared. Not too scared. Just scared enough to need extra attention. 

“Will you read me the rest tomorrow?”

“I’ve been reading so long, I think it already is tomorrow. But yes.”

They put the book aside and turned out the lights, settling down to finally get some sleep. The storm had only strengthened over the past few hours. Now that Jesper had stopped reading, they heard the rain—or was it still hail?—pattering the windowpanes. It was a perfect night to have someone with you under the covers.

“Do you like the book?” Jesper asked.

“Yes.”

“A little bit scary, right?” he asked, fingertips playing spider-like against Wylan’s back, making him squirm and laugh. “Right?”

“Okay!” Wylan half-shrieked between gasps of laughter. He knew how to make Jesper stop, though: he snuggled closer, hugging onto Jesper. “Mm, you’re comfy.”

“The comfiest,” Jesper retorted, shifting an arm around Wylan. 

“You know how it said that Bernard and Edouard were close friends?”

“Mm.” Bernard and Edouard were the main characters in the book.

“Maybe they’re a little more than that.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Wylan said, the energy growing in his words: “Maybe, it’s a cold night, or maybe some of the blankets will be ruined next and they’ll need to huddle together for warmth.”

Jesper laughed. “It’s a scary story, Wy.”

“Doesn’t matter. Even a scary story has space for a love story.”

That was his Wylan! 

Jesper only hoped that was as far as Wylan took his thoughts on the book tonight. Not just because of his father—it was a genuinely atmospheric, unsettling read! That didn’t bother Jesper, of course. He loved a good scare. That was different, of course, Jesper was made for adventures, whereas Wylan… he thought of Wylan that afternoon, bedraggled and soaked from his errand, firelight painting roses on his cheeks. It just wasn’t fair for his hair to look so scruffed that Jesper needed to bury his fingers in it, nor for his hands to shake like that so Jesper wanted to kiss the warmth back to them, nor—nor any of it. None of this was remotely fair, though it soothed the unfairness a little that the gorgeous merchling was currently sound asleep beside him.

“Sleep tight,” Jesper murmured. 

Yeah, it was better that way. The room was very, very dark, and the tat-tat-tat of rain on the window might hide all sorts of sounds. There might be any sort of… of whatever that monster was from the book! The scene where Edouard saw the figure in the doorway with its gruesome face… just chilling!

Jesper shivered. Yeah, it was definitely better for Wylan to be asleep rather than feeling his heart jump at all these shadows…

The problem was that the longer Jesper lay awake, shifting under the covers, the more he realized he was going to have to leave the bed. He tried to stifle thoughts of monsters, of whatever might be lurking in the dark of the room. Obviously, there was nothing. It as just that if he got up, he might wake Wylan, and he wouldn’t want Wylan to be scared. 

Finally Jesper couldn’t wait any longer. Thoughts of imaginary monsters burrowed into his mind—but that was just imaginary. The pressure in his bladder was very real! He slipped out from under the covers—Saints, this room was cold! Jesper shivered all the way to the washroom, imagined monsters a distant concern. 

In fact, the longer he stayed out of bed, the farther he felt from fear. He shouldn’t have let that get into his head. He—

“Jes?”

Jesper yelped.

“’S wrong?” Wylan asked sleepily.

“Nothing.” Jesper crawled back under the covers. They resettled against one another, snuggling close, though Wylan jerked his legs back when he felt Jesper’s toes.

“You’re freezing!”

“I’m aware of that! Go back to sleep. It’s late.”

* * *

_He was running. He was… trying to run, but his feet sank into the mud. Not just running—he was being chased! He struggled to yank each foot from the mud and keep moving._

_A flash of lightning sent thrills of horror down his spine, not half because it came just as he looked over his shoulder and showed a figure approaching, a figure far bigger than him and carrying a knife, a big mess of one, too. And even though the figure was only striding, and he was running as quickly as he could, the figure seemed immune to the sucking mud._

_He barely managed to scramble to the door in time. He slammed it shut behind him, but didn’t pause to lock the door—why didn’t he lock the door? He turned back, but the figure was already bursting through—_

* * *

“Wylan. Wylan!”

Wylan’s eyes cracked open. He groaned and rubbed them, at first unable to understand why he couldn’t see anything. Just the dark, he realized.

“Whas… what is it?” he asked. He was still looking for his bearings.

“You seemed like you were having a nightmare,” Jesper told him. 

“I was?” Wylan didn’t remember that. His head was fuzzy, not asleep, but not quite awake, either. He was in that in-between place where both worlds eluded him. Jesper, though—he was sure of Jesper. And of the pain in his nose! The night had turned a sharp-edged cold. 

Wylan burrowed deeper under the covers.

“Don’t remember.”

“Yeah,” Jesper said, a touch breathless. “Yeah, Wy.”

“Mm. Well. Thanks f’r waking me,” he mumbled. Being awake was an awful lot to ask. “Sorry… ‘f I woke you.”

“That’s okay.” Was his voice a little high? Jesper snuggled closer against Wylan. The cold must have bitten his nose, too. “You don’t remember anything?”

Wylan shook his head. Even as he tried, threads escaped him. Had he been dreaming at all? Well, he must have been.

“Maybe it was about that book we were reading.”

“Maybe,” Wylan agreed. Usually his nightmares were about… other things. Then again, how long had it been since someone read him a proper spooky story?

“That piece with the figure and its monstrous face, that probably got to you.”

“Hmm.” 

That didn’t sound like him. Wylan didn’t usually mind people’s appearances. When he worked in the tannery, he had seen some works with disfiguring scars on their faces—it wasn’t a safe place to work. And he never saw that as monsters or anything like that! They were just people who had been through accidents. The book was vague enough that he thought it was talking about something like the face of an angry, snarling dog. 

“Yeah,” Jesper said. “That was intense.”

“It…” Wylan hesitated. He couldn’t recall having any nightmares. That wasn’t proof, but… “Jes, were you having a nightmare?”

Jesper scoffed. “No.”

“Okay.”

The dark had begun to take more of a shape now. Wylan’s eyes had adjust enough for him to have a slight sense for things—the faint glow of the less-darkness around the window, the outline of a lamp, the shape of his boyfriend beside him. He resettled himself, moving a little higher up in the bed so he could wrap an arm more securely around Jesper. 

“But if you were having a nightmare, that would be okay. And I would tell you that you’re safe now… if you were having a nightmare.”

“Wasn’t, though,” Jesper said. He pressed his forehead to Wylan’s chest.

“Well… maybe it would help to talk about the dream you think I was having.”

“I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I know you’re not going to tease me for having a nightmare.”

“Of course not. I’m just going to tell you it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Wylan hummed thoughtfully. He didn’t understand why Jesper needed to feel this way—they were just nightmares. He didn’t need to hear the end of the book or anything, wasn’t going to insist they read it! As much as he wanted to pick apart Jesper’s reasoning, now was the wrong time for it. Instead, he looked for ways to speak along Jesper’s preferred lines.

“Jes?”

“Yeah.”

“If, hypothetically, I did have a nightmare, what else would you tell me?”


End file.
